“It’s the perfect place for it.”
He released her, but before she could gain her freedom he was at the strong steel door, locking it carefully before he turned back to her, his fingers going to the buttons of his shirt.
“Dammit, Kane!” she snapped. “Couches are not comfortable for f**king. Wait until we can find a bed.”
“Then come to me while I’m around a bed,” he told her, his voice clipped and impatient. “Now take those clothes off, Sherra, or you’ll be wearing my shirt and nothing more when we leave, because I’ll rip them off you.”
Sizzling awareness surged through her body, even her toes tingled with the demanding tone in his voice.
“Get a grip,” she hissed. “I am not going to let you f**k me here. Everyone will know what we did when we leave.”
“Then you can f**k me ,” he growled, advancing on her. “But you’re not leaving here until I’ve shot every damned drop of seed tormenting my c**k up your pu**y. So get naked, baby, because my control is on a very short leash right now.”
Lust sucker-punched her womb. It had to be the heat that caused such a reaction. If he had said something so asinine any other time she would have kicked him. After clawing his eyes out. But now, her legs weakened and her breath caught at the sexual demand and she felt as stable as a weak noodle as she moved around the room, trying to maintain a reasonable distance.
“You’ve lost your mind.” She tried to snarl, to inject some anger into her voice, but it came out breathless and panting instead.
If she could just get to the door.
He dropped his shirt from his shoulders. Strong, wide shoulders. Shoulders that flexed with strength and glistened with health. He was an aroused, determined male in his prime and he had made up his mind to f**k. Her pu**y ached at the thought. The strength of the needy contractions flexing within her vagina warned her that she might not fight this as hard as she needed to.
“I’ve lost my patience,” he corrected her, his eyes darkening as he somehow managed to maneuver her closer to the couch than she wanted to be. “I’m going to get you all naked, Sherra, and once I get my hands on you we both know it won’t take long. After I rip those pants from your long pretty legs then I’m going to bury my mouth so deep in your wet cunt that there won’t be an inch of it that doesn’t know my touch.”
She shivered. Shivered? Hell, she was shuddering, on the verge of cl**ax from the force of his words alone.
“Kane.” She tried to slip around him before he could stop her. It was as though he knew what she was going to do before she did. “This is insane. We’ll never control this with you acting this way.”
“Who says I want to control it?” he asked her devilishly. “No, baby. No control. No thinking. No excuses. Just you and me as hot as lava and burning down the world around us. Now, are you going to strip or do I strip you?”
He toed off the leather sneakers he had worn to the meeting. It was then she knew he had arranged this ahead of time. Kane never, ever wore sneakers around the compound. He wore the tough leather boots that protected his feet and lower legs while working.
She would have snapped something hateful at him then if his hands hadn’t gone to his belt, the leather sliding free of the buckle as his fingers jerked the first button from his jeans loose.
“Damn you, my c**k is on fire.” He was nearly snarling as he released the button of his jeans. “And you’re still dressed, Sherra. Don’t make me tear those clothes off you.”
Sherra swallowed tightly as his jeans and briefs were kicked free of his hard body. His c**k strained toward her, heavy and engorged, the plum-shaped, purplish head beaded with pre-come and looking too tempting for her comfort.
“Kane,” she whispered, barely managing not to whimper in need. “This is not a good idea.”
“Best idea I’ve had in eleven years,” he informed her, his voice harsh as he moved too fast for her to evade.
Before she could run, before she could even consider fighting, he had her on her back on the wide couch, his hands at the bottom of her stretchy top as he jerked it over her br**sts.
“Hell, yeah,” he muttered, his hands enclosing her br**sts as his lips lowered to hers. She could have fought him, she assured herself. She could have pushed away, fought her way to the
door, she could have escaped. A lie to salve her pride? Did it matter, she wondered? Because a second later his lips covered hers and escape was the last thing on her mind. He didn’t give her a chance to fight him, but Sherra knew she should have never expected him to. His lips slanted over hers, his tongue plunging past her lips as she gasped, twining immediately with hers. His tongue was cool, soothing against hers as the caress began to rub against the swollen glands, allowing the hormone contained there its freedom. Sherra had thought it would be enough, that the small relief would give her a chance to regain her control. It was the opposite of that. Everything inside her clenched and flamed in yearning. She needed more. She needed him sucking the hormone from her, drawing it into himself. The powerful demands of nature were more than she could deny. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her hands spearing into his hair as she fought for dominance in at least this one thing. Her tongue battled and twined as mewling whimpers escaped her throat until he allowed her to slide her tongue past his waiting lips.
The first draw of his mouth on the swollen extension had her body bowing tight. Sensation tore through her, a pleasure so overwhelming it knotted her womb with a convulsive shudder of agonized hunger. Her br**sts were so sensitive that each stroke of his fingers over her ni**les caused a helpless scream to echo past her lips, so desperate for the stroke of his c**k up her pu**y that she was pushing at her pants, fighting to free herself of them so he could plunge inside her. Their tongues twined within his mouth as his lips sucked at the spicy fluid that came from the mating glands. It soothed the sensitivity, the heat that seemed to fill her own tongue, but only increased the heat throughout her body.
She was mindless, so greedy, so hungry for him now that nothing mattered except the hard thrust she knew was coming.
“Not yet.” The growl that tore from his throat as he pulled back from her lips was rough, guttural.
“First…what I’ve dreamed of, Sherra.”
He ripped the top from her a second before he moved to her pants. He got them to her ankles before he realized he was going to have to unlace her boots and remove them first.
“Fuck it,” he snarled.